Page 20 of Hope and Happiness in Bluebell Wood
Our walks would usually take place in the woods, but sometimes we’d venture into the village if I thought it was likely tobe quiet. Like yesterday, when it had been bucketing down with rain. So Merlin didn’t get muddy, I’d been a little braver, and we’d walked through the village and down by the church, exploring just a little more of Bluebell Wood than we’d already discovered.
I’d paused outside the church for a moment or two in the rain. It was a fairly small building, but that made it all the more attractive. It had a tall bell tower at one end, and a little porch on one side decorated with plants and birds carved in stone. I tried to imagine Callum taking services in there, but for some reason I struggled to.
Callum had crossed my mind more times than I cared to admit since we’d bumped into him last Sunday, but I was still having trouble seeing him as anything but the hunky handyman who had come to the cottage to fix my sink. Even though I’d seen him in his dog collar, I still couldn’t imagine him as a vicar, or maybe I didn’t want to . . .
Today as we take our usual route towards the wood, I hope that yesterday’s rain hasn’t made it too wet to walk the paths. I had dog shampoo at the cottage now, but I didn’t fancy trying to bath Merlin when we got back.
Luckily for us some of the trees must have acted as a canopy, so although the greenery around us looks refreshed and invigorated by yesterday’s downpour, the narrow paths and trails are still easy to negotiate. As always, I breathe in the fresh woodland air as I walk, and as a result any worries I have seem to melt away.
Birds sing in the trees as we pass.
‘Why don’t you come and try my bird table sometime?’ I call cheerily to them. ‘It’s very nice and there’s lots of choice.’
But they happily ignore my invitation and continue singing to each other.
We take a new path today, one we haven’t tried before. It looks much like many of the other narrow paths in the wood, except after we’ve walked along it for a while this one begins to widen out into a clearing. The sun, making the most of the gap between the trees, shines down into the opening and I lean my face up towards it.
‘Wonderful,’ I say, my eyes closed for a moment. I can hear nothing but the trees swishing next to me, and the now distant sound of birdsong. I open my eyes again, and see Merlin investigating some old stones in the centre of the clearing. He lifts his leg against one.
‘Do you ever stop marking your territory?’ I ask, laughing at him. ‘I’m sure hundreds of dogs have been here before you and hundreds will be here after you.’
But Merlin doesn’t care, he continues to sniff around the old stones, which I realise as I get nearer are not, as I’d first thought, natural in their making, but more like stones used for building.
‘These are pretty old,’ I say, examining those around us. ‘Maybe there was once a house or something similar here in the woods.’
But any building here would have been quite remote – we’d walked a fair way into the wood now, and I realise as I hear the sound of running water and discover a small stream running downhill next to us, we’ve been steadily climbing for a while too.
Merlin stops to take a drink from the cool clear water, and as I watch him I become transfixed by the steady sound of the water trickling over the rocks in front of me.
How peaceful it is, I think to myself. Actually, tranquil mightbe a better word. Peaceful, tranquil and serene. I can actually feel my heart rate begin to slow as I gaze at the moving water beside me.
‘Mind if I join you?’ I hear, as a voice bursts my bubble of calm.
Startled, I turn and see Callum jogging towards us on the opposite side of the stream. He’s wearing a similar outfit to the first time we’d met him out running – sweatpants, a hoodie and running shoes – and I notice that the stubble that had been missing from his face on Sunday has made a return.
‘Your Merlin has got the right idea,’ he says, stopping and kneeling down at the side of the stream. He scoops up some of the water in his hands and takes a drink, then he does the same again. ‘Can’t beat it,’ he says, smiling at me as he stands up again, shaking his hands dry. ‘It’s some of the freshest, cleanest water you’ll ever taste.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ I say, as he expertly steps over a few stones in the water so he doesn’t get his feet wet.
‘You surely can,’ he says, standing next to me now. ‘It’s the best, and considering I deal in Holy Water, that’s saying something!’
I smile at him, feeling awkward in his presence as usual.
‘Is this one of your usual running routes?’ I ask, not knowing what else to say.
‘Yeah, I quite often come up here. That’s the good thing about the woods: there are so many different paths you can take – a bit like life itself!’
I smile politely again.
‘Sorry, too many jokes?’ he asks. ‘I do that sometimes.’
Was Callum nervous too? I wonder. No, why would he be?
‘So, how are you settling in?’ he continues pleasantly. Hereaches down to fuss Merlin, who has joined us. ‘Is the cottage behaving itself now?’
‘Yes, it’s lovely, thank you. Nice and peaceful.’
‘Good. If there’s something that Bluebell Wood will definitely give you it’s peace. Not too much happens here.’
